


Father's Day

by panchostokes (badwolfrun)



Series: Ficverse: Parker and Madison Stokes [7]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Angst, Father's Day, Fluff, Gen, mention of a past relationship, sprinkle of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24841576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/pseuds/panchostokes
Summary: The first father's day Nick has with his kids after a traumatic event.
Relationships: Nick Stokes & Madison Stokes, Nick Stokes & Original Female Character(s), Nick Stokes & Original Male Character(s), Nick Stokes & Parker Stokes
Series: Ficverse: Parker and Madison Stokes [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1385533
Comments: 10
Kudos: 7





	Father's Day

**Author's Note:**

> Directly mentions the events of Last Breath, as well as Nick's relationship with an OC of mine.

“‘Well that’s a peculiar set of tires that truck’s got there, wonder if they’d like some wheels to go with that.‘”

“Who said that? Who even says ‘peculiar’ anymore?” Nick laughs into his bowl of melted ice cream.

“Daddy, you did! Remember?” Madison giggles, taking one final spoonful of dessert and playfully flinging her spoon at the older man.

“Oh…” Nick’s face falls. It’s only the tenth story his daughter had regaled to him, that he was there for, that he  _ experienced _ …

That he doesn’t remember. 

“It-it’s okay, Daddy,” Madison reaches her hand out, sensing her father’s self disappointment. She wipes away the splatter of sweetness with her thumb. “It happened a long time ago.”

She always said that when he didn’t remember. 

Even if what she was recounting happened two weeks ago. 

Nick avoids her eyes, clearing his throat as he pulls his hand away to examine his watch. 

“Oh, would you look at that, getting pretty late there, darlin’. Why don’t you run off to bed, I’ll pack your lunch for tomorrow--”

“Already did,” Madison halts him as he rises to get up from the kitchen table. “Backpack’s all packed, clothes set out…”

“Hmm,” Nick nods, falls back down in his seat. 

“I even set out your favorite suit, too, you got that court date, right?”

“You’re...you’re right,” Nick scratches his beard, leaning back in his seat. He smiles sadly. “Don’t know what I’d do without you, kiddo.”

Madison gets up and tackles him in a side hug before kissing his cheek, playfully spitting out the bristles of his beard as she disengages. He can’t fight the spreading smile, but it fades just as soon as she runs up the stairs. 

Not even ten years old, and she’s already grown up. 

* * *

“Mads, c’mon, we’re gonna be late!” Parker calls from the bottom of the staircase. He nods his head towards his father as he enters from the sitting room. “You comin’ Dad?” 

“Coming where?”

“To drive Mads to volleyball practice. We still got a few hours left on my permit to cover, figure this would be good as time as any.”

“Maddy’s got practice on Wednesdays, it’s only Tuesday.”

“Nah, Dad, sorry, it’s hump day alright,” Parker digs out his phone to show his father the date. Nick has to squint, lifting up his glasses to see the screen as he holds it at arms length. 

“Well...when you’re right, you’re right, buddy…” 

Out of nowhere, the excited ten year old bolts down the stairs and dares to skip a few steps in a giant leap, nearly tumbling over Parker and heading in a crash collision into her father--

When Parker immediately stands up, and grabs her from behind, clutching her to his chest as she falls into a fit of giggles. 

“Nice reflexes, Park!” she beams, before she regains her momentum and springs out the door. 

“Don’t make it a habit!” Parker pants. He looks up at his father, shaking his head wistfully. “Kids these days…”

He brushes past and grabs the car keys, leaving Nick in a fallen reflective silence for a couple of minutes, suddenly feeling as if he was back at the ranch in Texas, watching his parents sift through the chaos of seven children, and feeling as small and inexperienced to know what’s going on as he did back then. 

He vaguely wonders if he’s still in his coma. 

* * *

“Do you think...do you think I’m a good father?” he whispers as he drifts through the black void on the bridge of the dream world and the waking one. 

“I’m not the right person to ask, honey,” her voice whispers back. “My dad never even wanted me, step dad was a bit of an asshole...so really as long as you’re neither of them, of course you’re good.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“I know. I’m sorry…”

He feels her fingers slide down his back, he at first seethes at the sudden touch before he falls into the gentle petting sensation as he feels a warm waft of air against the back of his neck that coats the freezing goosebumps. 

“But...really, far as I’m concerned...despite everything that’s plaguing your mind and telling you to just give up, you’re still here. You’re still dad-ing with your terrible jokes and your ultra-protective bear instincts, and you still  _ love  _ them. And they love  _ you,  _ even if they don’t need you anymore--which isn’t true, by the way. And even if it is...you’re still wanted, or else they’d be living somewhere else, wouldn’t they?”

“Pretty sure a sixteen and ten year old living on their own is illegal, baby,” he smiles sadly, though he appreciates the sentiment behind her rambling words. 

“Point still stands, you--you would be able to tell if they didn’t want you around as a Dad. Or as a roommate. Or as anybody you think that they think you are. Be gentle to yourself, sweetie. The clouds will clear up soon.” 

He opens his eyes, and the woman is gone. No tender stroking on his back, no word vomit rant as she tries to weave her way through his tangled thoughts. No gentle pressing of her lips against his neck, no comfort besides the thick blanket he’s curled underneath in hopes that the heat would ease the sting in his temple. 

She always hated this day, and truth be told...he was starting to hate it too. 

Though he couldn’t deny that he could really,  _ really  _ go for a big ol’ Cisco hug right now. 

* * *

Madison is already on her second plate of poorly made eggs and potatoes while Parker still picks at his first. They both try every year to make their father breakfast and something always goes wrong. Eggs get burnt, potatoes are unseasoned, coffee’s too bitter. In the sixteen years he’s been alive, Parker still doesn’t understand how he’s never failed before. 

“He’s been sleeping a while,” he mutters as he notices the imperfections in the runny scrambled eggs that look more like a scientific experiment gone wrong than a hearty meal. 

“Maybe we should bring his food up for him? Breakfast in bed?”

“We always did that for Mom…” Parker reflects under his breath as he stares at the vacant seat at the table, food and drink already placed out. 

“Can’t imagine it’s easy this year, given that he...he re-lived through Papa Cisco’s…”

The word hangs in the air, Parker feels a chill down his spine even with the bright ray of sunlight on his back. 

“And Uncle Rick’s, too. I heard him talking to Eli on the phone last night before bed. At least that hasn’t changed.”

“Do...Do you think what we got him is enough?” Madison whispers. 

Parker lifts his head with intent to nod, but instead remains motionless in doubt. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I feel like we never do enough for him.” 

Madison’s lower lip wobbles. 

“B-but, hey, the important thing is, we’re all here, yeah? Despite everything that happened, we’re all here together,  _ alive  _ and...awake, a-and I bet Dad’s thinking the same--” Parker’s speech falls as they hear a creaking door from the second floor of the house. His eyes lock on the staircase, watching the shadow accompany the footsteps on the stairs while his heart flutters in anticipation, but he doesn’t have enough time to wipe his face, put on that hopeful mask.

Luckily Madison’s got him beat, she’s already up and out of her chair with a big smile on her face to great their bed-headed father as he makes a bee-line for the coffee that had already been set out for him.

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” she exclaims in a loud whisper, sensing that her normal volume of joy wouldn’t be appropriate for the glum man. She hugs his head to her chest after he sits down in his chair, planting a kiss on the top of his head after running a hand to flatten the wild mess.

“Thanks, baby,” he pulls her down by her wrist and bestows a long, drawn out smooch on her cheek that makes her giggle. She mutters something about “using the bathroom” before she scurries out of the room, with a knowing, twinkling wink to her older brother.

“Happy Father’s Day, Dad,” Parker gulps, clumsily moving his chair to meet his father in a messy side-hug before he leaves the table to obtain the salt and pepper he had forgotten to lay out for his father. 

“Something wrong, Park?” Nick immediately asks, setting his mug down and sensing the anxiety in his son. 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head with a frown. 

Nick’s eyes narrow over the rims of his glasses. 

“Messed up the eggs again…” Parker sheepishly admits. "And eggs are your favorite."

_ “These  _ eggs? Nah, buddy, they’re--” Nick eagerly sticks his fork in the food, scooping up a large chunk and shoving it in his mouth. Parker watches as his face twists into a grimace before he swallows and continues to speak, “--they’re delicious, man, really.”

“You’re just saying that,” Parker accuses. 

“I wouldn’t if it wasn’t true,” Nick cups a hand behind Parker’s head, before it dances up and ruffles his hair. “There, see, now we match.”

Parker can’t keep back the contagious smile as it’s reflected in his father’s face. 

Nick’s almost done with his plate when Madison comes darting back into the room like a speeding bullet, practically throwing his present onto his plate before it bounces instead into his lap. 

“What’s this?” he squeaks, pushing his chair back to get a better look at the gift, hastily wrapped in Christmas-themed wrapping paper. 

“I forgot to wrap it,” Madison whispers to Parker behind the partition of a cupped hand. Parker snorts as Madison continues in her normal volume, “It’s your present, silly!”

The smile on Nick’s face falls as he reads the front of the book, his glasses cloud up and he cups a shaky hand to his lips. 

“Do...do you like it?” Madison asks hesitantly as his whole body begins to tremble, and a sob escapes through the narrow space between his fingers. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he pulls both of his children into him on both sides, kissing each of their foreheads as tears roll down his cheeks. “It’s perfect. Just like y’all.”

The rest of the day is spent laughing, crying and reminiscing over the contents of the gift. 

A scrapbook, not unlike the one Madison had gone through with him while he was in the hospital to help him navigate through his shattered memories, but it was more unique than that, more themed. Filled with pictures over the last sixteen years, with one as recent as the previous night when they had all gone out for ice cream after Madison’s volleyball practice. But what had hit him the most was the title cover, and the words that decorated it.

_ “Why a daughter and son need their father.”  _

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to deltajackdalton for giving me the idea of the scrapbook 💜


End file.
